Basil Could Have Saved Him
by fangirl05
Summary: ... I really have nothing to say. Just enjoy the shameless and fluffy Dorian/Basil smut.


**A/N: This is the greatest porn. In the history of porn. Well, the greatest porn in the history of porn I've ever written.**

**Seriously though, I am so much proud of this. ^w^ This might just be my pornographic masterpiece. I should probably come up with a non-pornographic one of those sometime...**

* * *

Basil wasn't quite sure how they'd gotten into this position. He remembered a muffled crash, leading a despondent Dorian Gray to his bedroom, and then... Well, after that things got a little hazy.

If he focused on something other than the present - which he was not particularly inclined to do at the moment, thank you - he would've remembered the hiss of metal across the mantlepiece and how Dorian had shoved his head onto the table. He'd barely been able to stop the boy's hand in time. Damn near hadn't, either; he'd felt the tip of something very sharp press behind his ear.

The fight had been brief, almost too much so to qualify as such: Basil had forced Dorian's arm straight and flipped them around, bending him back against the table. That was when he first noticed the spark of fear in Dorian's lovely blue eyes. The artist delivered a powerful punch to his stomach, and the boy dropped the knife in shock. Basil snatched it away before his opponent had a chance to right himself and grab it.

For a moment they had stared at each other, breathing heavily, as the bizarre fury in Dorian's eyes faded to something like fear, then brightened with possible tears, and then the boy collapsed to his knees and covered his mouth with one hand with a fearful whimper of Basil's name. The painter had gone to his side at once, after throwing the knife as far from them as he could manage without looking at it, and gathered him up into his arms, petting his fine gold hair softly and hushing him, letting him snivel against his chest.

They had stayed that way until Dorian had leaned back. Basil had thumbed a tear off of Dorian's cheekbone and pressed a soft kiss to the same spot. He'd felt the boy's eyelashes brush against the side of his chin as he did so. Dorian didn't protest as Basil helped him to his feet and out of the attic, away from the painting - he refused to think of it as his, signature be damned - and led him by the hand to his room. Basil had expected it to end there and had turned to take his leave, but Dorian had caught his arm gently and turned him around. He'd placed a soft, tentative kiss on his lips, and Basil had sort of... Lost it. He wasn't sure who, but one of them had walked them backward to Dorian's bed.

And now here they were.

Dorian clutched limply at his shoulders, not really kissing him as much as keeping their mouths together. Basil didn't mind; the boy tasted of brandy spiced with tobacco. He drew back to study his face: A bit of saliva was smeared across his lower lip; Basil licked his own at the memory of that plush, petal - soft thing. His cheeks were flushed closer to red than pink, and his eyes were dark and glassy and just a little insecure. Had he never done this, Basil wondered as he pulled the boy's tie loose and unbuttoned his waistcoat and the first few buttons of his shirt. The thought made him feel a little smug - he'd been suspicious of his and Harry's relationship, and not just a little jealous - and although he tried not to show it, a bit nervous. He had no experience in this matter either, but he would try to be strong for Dorian. He looked like he needed it. He brought his mouth down to the curve of Dorian's cremello neck, then further, to his left collarbone. One of Dorian's lovely musician's hands came up and attempted to grip at his hair. His free arm draped around his shoulder.

"Haah... Basil..."

He looped an arm behind the younger man's back, intending to draw him off of the pillows to hold him closer, and the inside of his hip bumped against something that made Dorian gasp and gave himself pause.

He leaned back.

_Oh..._

Dorian was aroused.

He watched the boy shift backward to stare at the unmistakable peak between his legs in apparent wonder, as if he were surprised to see it there. He turned his wide - eyed, lust - darkened face up to Basil. The painter realized that his mouth was open, closed it, reached a hand out and settled it on the boy's crotch. He inhaled sharply as he did so. Satisfied, Basil squeezed it gently and rolled it between his fingers, reveling in Dorian's little gasps and sighs and thrusts into his hand.

He looked up at him after a bit, curious about what he looked like. The boy's gaze was fixed on Basil's hand between his legs. Tears were beginning to gather in the corners of his eyes, and Basil leaned forward to lap them away. Dorian squirmed at the strange sensation around his eye and then _moaned_ at the feeling the sudden movement made flare between his legs.

When he felt a damp patch beginning to seep through the fabric of the boy's trousers, Basil pulled his hand away, much to Dorian's dismay.

He wasn't made to feel bereft for long.

"Basil" he panted as the painter unfastened his trousers and lowered his head between his legs. Dorian gasped in what Basil took for fear, so he rubbed the boy's clad right thigh soothingly. He feathered kissed around the base of it, trying to decide where to go next. In the end he opted to go for broke and took the top half of it into his mouth.

Dorian made a noise behind his lips that sounded like a scream.

"B - Basil, no" he begged. Basil, deciding that Dorian was still frightened but otherwise enjoying himself, hummed contentedly around his mouthful. Dorian tried to catch the moan that bordered on a wail in his hands. God forbid that someone find him like this, especially with another man. Being talked- and whispered about behind one's back was acceptable, but to be _seen_...

"I can't-! Basil!"

Basil brought Dorian's cock further into his mouth and pinched the base of it lightly between his thumb and first two fingers. He was determined to make Dorian come. The boy lasted for three more movements of his head before his seed spurted into the back of Basil's throat. The painter gagged on it and tried to hold his jaws in place until Dorian was out of his mouth - he was pretty sure that he nipped him anyway - and then descended into a coughing fit after swallowing while Dorian sank onto his back.

While Dorian floated in the afterglow, very nearly glowing himself, Basil busied himself with pulling the boy's trousers off the rest of the way and discarding them over the bedside along with his socks, followed by his shirt, waistcoat and tie all at once. The boy's arms moved compliantly as he pulled the clothes from behind his back. If Dorian Gray was a joy to look at under normal circumstances, he was the purest ecstasy to look at naked.

The boy suddenly surged upward and kissed Basil as though he were trying to swallow him. Well, Basil found little to complain about with that. He curled his arms around the boy's back and held him close until Dorian forced their mouths apart, gasping.

"Undress, Basil!" he exclaimed, breathless and urgent but still slightly boyish. Basil set to work pulling his tie loose and then undoing his waistcoat and shirt. Dorian, he could tell, was busily opening his trousers, which he finally noticed were stretched so painfully tightly across his own manhood. He slid his arms out of his sleeves and tossed his clothes over the bedside.

He was not expecting Dorian to close his mouth around his length and _suck_ as if he were trying to drain his soul.

"Ugh! Dorian..."

How had the boy managed to keep still through all that? It was all Basil could do not to ravage his mouth. He settled for clutching his soft blonde hair and pulling him flat against the front of his hips. Dorian, for his part, moved his head and hummed easily around him, pulling a myriad of groans from Basil's mouth.

He stopped sucking much too soon and turned over onto his stomach with his backside in the air. The sight made Basil a little sad; Was this the only way Dorian had ever experienced sex? If so, then it was almost assuredly Harry's fault; he'd really have to limit the amount of time the boy spent with him. He turned him onto his back again by his shoulder, pausing halfway through to kiss him again, and reached back between his legs. He was pleased to find him at least partially aroused again and spent the next minute or two helping him the rest of the way along.

The painter lowered his hand between Dorian's legs again, this time a bit below his testicles. The boy's eyes widened and then turned up to Basil's face. The painter pressed his thumb into the expanse of skin between the boy's scrotum and what he truly sought, driving a surprised "Oh!" from between Dorian's lips followed by a series of pleasured murmurs. Basil took a minute just to watch him - Dorian was never more beautiful than when in the throes of carnal bliss - then stilled his thumb and touched the tip of his middle finger against the tiny dip between his buttocks. Dorian hissed at the contact.

It felt firm and unyielding, and would only cause him pain if breached now. So instead he circled his finger around it, barely even touching it, trailing his nose from the base of Dorian's cock to the tip as he did, ignoring his insistent "Don't tease me, Basil!"

He continued with this treatment until the pungent bud grew soft and loose to the touch, then leaned back and thumbed the bit of Dorian's pre - ejaculate off of his nose. He licked it up quietly as he studied him: His hair fanned out against the pillow like a splattering of the purest gold on canvas; His arms were spread wide, palms up, as if in offering; His legs were bent, exposing his genitals; and his eyes were dark and glassy and unfocused, as if he was in a trance.

"Basil, _please_," he whispered, "I can't bear it."

_Neither can I_, Basil realized. His spread Dorian's legs a bit further open and touched the tip of his erection against his sphincter.

_Finally..._

Dorian narrowed his eyes and inhaled through gritted teeth as Basil pushed slowly into him. He made no sound, but his breathing was quickened and erratic. When Basil finally stilled he whimpered and squirmed, craning his neck back toward the headboard and arching his back, then exhaling deeply, trying to force himself to relax, warring between the parts of him that wanted to get away from the pain and those that wanted him to stay where he was.

"Shh" Basil whispered and stroked Dorian's cheek. The boy turned his face into Basil's palm and kissed the base of his thumb before glancing at him from the corners of his eyes. "There, that's it" Basil encouraged, carding his fingers through Dorian's hair, "Deep breaths, Dorian."

The boy shut his eyes and slowed and deepened his breathing for several minutes. When he felt ready, he flexed his knees farther apart, resting his delicate ankles on the curves of Basil's buttocks.

The painter lifted the boy's lower back a bit and began to move, withdrawing slowly and pushing back in just slowly enough not to cause Dorian pain. Basil didn't claim to have any experience with this, but he had heard rumors about a certain male gland. He drove in a bit deeper and felt the tip of his cock bump against something a bit firmer than Dorian's soft inner walls.

"_Oh_! Basil..."

Dorian's legs stretched and curled with pleasure, in turn doing wonderful things where he and Basil were joined. The artist held tighter to Dorian's hips, assuring he stayed in place, and continued at a faster pace, pulling him into each forward motion, careful to rub against the same place each time. Dorian's eyes fluttered blissfully and he snatched at the headboard, moaning shamelessly and rocking his hips to meet Basil's thrusts. If he still felt any of his earlier pain, he certainly wasn't showing it. A clear globule spurted generously from the slit at the head of his cock and dripped down onto his stomach.

"Dorian... My Dorian..."

He froze in horror when he realized what he'd said. Dorian, wincing, wound his arms around Basil's neck and placed a kiss on his lower lip so gentle it was almost silent.

"Yes," he whispered. "Yours."

Basil continued the kiss more forcefully, pressing Dorian back down into the mattress. Dorian broke the kiss first to breathe, then arched his back off the bed with a broken sigh as Basil drove back into him.

"_Ah_... _Deeper_, Basil" he insisted, even though the artist was already buried in him as deeply as he could go. Dorian's arms were bent across his chest with his fingers flexed awkwardly, and Basil pulled them around his neck and shifted back onto his shins to rest the boy in his lap. Dorian threw his head back and moaned with pleasure as the head of Basil's cock chafed against his prostate gland.

"Basil, touch me!" he pleaded, then reached down between them to touch himself before Basil could comply. The artist settled for rolling the boy's left nipple between his fingers instead. Dorian gasped and shivered and stroked himself faster, rolling his hips and making desperate little noises.

His eyes suddenly fluttered and he sucked in a gasp, tightening and drawing Basil even further in. The artist was almost sure he came first, hot and quick, and then Dorian shuddered, his seed splattering across Basil's stomach, his body seizing, squeezing the last few drops out of Basil and pulling a moan that sounded a lot like "Oh,_ Dorian_" out of his mouth.

Dorian fell exhausted onto his back, dragging Basil with him. Basil could only manage to be the smallest bit worried about whether the boy could breathe under his weight or not; he was too busy enjoying the reality of Dorian Gray's moist, clammy body under his own.

Basil combed his fingers through Dorian's hair until their breathing had slowed to a mostly normal speed, then peeled their stomachs apart, lifted the boy's hips to steady them and withdrew from him slowly, both to ensure Dorian's comfort and for his own benefit. He hoped Dorian liked his being inside of him as much as Basil did.

Dorian followed Basil sleepily with his head as the artist slipped out of the bed and into Dorian's private bathroom. He ran the faucet over a hanging washcloth and wrung out the excess water, then turned back into the bedroom. He lifted Dorian's limp, slimy hand and wiped that off first, then cleaned his own stomach with the other side. He turned back just long enough to toss the rag into the sink, then returned to Dorian's bed and pulled down the covers.

"Are you all right, darling?" he asked as he brought the sheets over their chests, and Dorian nodded and burrowed into the space above Basil's collarbone. Basil curled an arm across Dorian's back and over his shoulder and combed his fingers slowly through his hair. Dorian sighed; there was more love for him here in Basil's arms than he had known for most of his life. The thought made his eyes burn with tears. He hugged Basil so tightly that he almost couldn't breathe, and even then Basil could feel him shaking.

"I'm sorry." His voice was teary and thick.

Basil stroked his hair once. "I know."

"I don't know what - "

"Shh" Basil murmured and kissed his forehead, "Hush, dear heart. Put it from your mind, as I have."

For a long while they lay in silence, unsure if the other was asleep, until Dorian spoke up.

"I think I want to be good again, Basil. But how can I after everything I've done?"

"I don't know, darling boy," he answered, "but I'll do everything to help you."

"I know you will."

Dorian kissed Basil's neck, and the painter turned his head down hopefully. Dorian stretched his neck up and kissed him back, then quickly, albeit reluctantly, pulled away.

"No, Basil. You cannot help me this way, simply because of what you are. Because of what_ I _am."

"What are we, dearest?"

Dorian sighed. "Men. This" - he nudged Basil's chest - "is a crime. It doesn't matter how much you love me, not in the eyes of society."

Basil lifted Dorian's near hand to his mouth and kissed his fingers. "I don't care, Dorian" he told him seriously, "I finally have you back again after twenty years. I'm not about to let you go again, not ever."

Dorian smiled then, a real, Dorian smile, and Basil, delighted at the reappearance of his lovely little muse, leaned down and kissed him again.

Dorian draped a tired arm over Basil's hip and closed his eyes with a yawn.

"Stay with me tonight, Basil?"

Basil kissed his temple and smiled against his hair.

"Always, my love."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so apparently my brain thinks that Basil would be very generous with the pet names, sue me.**


End file.
